


Bless this day (tragedy of life)

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/F, Hair Washing, Intimacy, Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, Long Live Feedback Comment Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: May wakes up with a hangover and some discoveries to make. She navigates through them while washing Daisy's hair.





	Bless this day (tragedy of life)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [26stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/gifts).

> This fills the "Accidental Marriage" square in my [ Ladies of Marvel Bingo Card](https://florchis.tumblr.com/post/187988059166/currently-taking-prompts-for-this-just-remember=). I'm accepting prompts for it on[ my Tumblr](http://florchis.tumblr.com/ask) or here!
> 
> Rated T for nudity.

When she wakes up, the first thing May notices is that the shower is working on the bathroom attached to her room. The second one is the awful headache that is taking over her entire existence. She presses the pillow hard against her eyes and forehead. It’s been a while since she has had such an awful hangover; alcohol tolerance is one of the many traits that wanes when not trained regularly, and she has not been on the professional leagues for a long time now.

Why did she let herself be convinced that she needed a bachelorette party of all things. 

She will have  _ words  _ with Phil.

She sits up on the bed, raises her arms above her head and stretches her torso to the right and then to the left. Her neck makes an unpleasant sound, and she winces at the sensation of the taut muscles pulling at her shoulders. She can’t afford anymore the luxury of falling asleep haphazardly, not even on her own bed, and her body is informing her of the toll on being reckless.

She is going to  _ murder  _ Phil.

But first, the shower.

She doesn’t knock before going in the bathroom: if Daisy wanted privacy, she could have gone take a shower in her own private bathroom. She inhales deeply, willing the warm steam to ease the sharp pain between her eyebrows.

“Wash your hair or towel you off?”

Daisy curses in surprise and May cracks a small smile. All this time and- though her skill is now on a similar level- Daisy still hasn’t gotten used to May’s ability to be deadly silent. 

“Fuck, you scared me. Hair, please.”

May takes off her pajama top- she doesn’t remember putting it on, but that is a problem for after she has washed her fiancee’s hair on her sports bra- and ties her hair in a tidy bum at the top of her head.

“Scoot closer.”

She tries to not get distracted with the tempting expanse of wet, smooth skin when Daisy sits on the edge of the shower obediently. May pours a blob of her own shampoo on her hand; that is a selfish act: Daisy already has a bottle of her own shampoo in here, but she likes when Daisy smells like her. Daisy’s hair is getting long again, and while she rubs her scalp thoroughly, May thinks about teaching her how to do a couple different kind of braids. The distraction, the physical contact, and the sweet smells are therapeutic, and by the time she is rinsing Daisy’s hair, her own headache is but the vague memory of discomfort.

When she is done, May leans over to kiss Daisy’s shoulder, her lips gliding over damp skin. Daisy tilts her neck to the opposite side, encouraging the attention, but there is something part concerned, part mischievous in Daisy’s eyes that distracts May.

“What?” She asks, snappier than she wanted; talking makes impossible to push away the memories of the severe dehydration and the foul taste in her mouth.

“What what,” Daisy replies, not a question at all, and tangles her fingers on the base of May’s head to keep her mouth close. May bites her gently, both retaliation and affection, and watches in satisfaction how it projects ripples of sensation through all the planes of Daisy’s body, the gentle curve of her breasts swinging back and forward. Daisy relents. “I’m glad you are not freaking out.”

May knows her reaction is being watched carefully, and that’s why she lets her expression shift freely; sometimes muscles are better communicators than words, and not only during a fight.

“You don’t remember last night.” Daisy’s voice is amused, and whatever has happened, maybe it’s good that May doesn’t remember much after the fifth shot: less embarrassment in her mind, fewer reasons to kill her best friend. 

“No, I don’t.”

Daisy wiggles her hand in the air, a trace of a smile on her lips, and May checks, relieved, that she is wearing her engagement ring, and only her engagement ring: she got worried for a second that maybe, in an alcohol-induced haze, they had gotten married. Eloping is cool and everything, but they had  _ plans _ , and they are going to follow them. 

“Coulson. A bottle of Haig.” Daisy starts walking her through it, and May can appreciate the way she does it in a direct, easy way. “A couple of old coworkers of yours. One of them ordained. The rest is history, except that Coulson wasn’t very good at explaining that you  _ were  _ getting married, but not exactly to _ him.” _

_ “No.” _

Daisy snickers.

“Oh,  _ yes.” _ May freezes, and Daisy stretches her neck, kisses the juncture between May’s throat and jawline in a hungry way.  _ No hard feelings, _ she’s trying to say. “You have a nice divorce ahead of yourself before you can make an honest woman out of me, Melinda Qiaolian May.”

She is going to  _ murder Phil.  _

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Prompts
>   * Image reactions
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> This author replies to comments (but it might take a while). If you'd rather not get a reply, please add *whispers* to your comment.


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